


And the lights they glow

by Zuzia



Category: Genghis Khan - Miike Snow (Music Video)
Genre: Angst, Christmas Fluff, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff, Ghosts of Christmas, Heroes and Villains, Humor, M/M, Spies & Secret Agents, yeah my writing is hilariously bad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-12 01:38:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9050020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zuzia/pseuds/Zuzia
Summary: Goldnose is going to kill Ellington, and he's going to do it tomorrow. The ghosts of Christmas Past, Present, and Future are on a mission to stop him.





	1. Marjoy's warning

**Author's Note:**

> This took me way, way, WAY too long lmao.
> 
> In any case I'd like to thank RenderedNull and agentfern for helping me with this immensely by coming up with names, letting me idea dump on them and supplying me with other plot points, too. Also huge thanks to mellodramatica who is a huge nerd.
> 
> The name Reginald is from icarus_chained's fic Pas de Deux (of course I had to use that name), Solshine came up with Bradley Ellington, and Pierson Otto was thought up by my lovely friend Ness (peachangelteeth.tumblr.com). 
> 
> I hope y'all enjoy this cheesy ass story 'cause I sure enjoyed writing it.

The holidays are a peculiar time of year, aren’t they? Everybody somewhat conscious of what’s happening in the world can agree to  _ some  _ extent that we haven’t got it figured out at all. It’s terrible. We’ve got such a long way to go. 

 

Some people say that it’s hypocritical to preach happiness and love during the holiday season, because the violence and the hate doesn’t really stop. And of course, it doesn’t: it would be impossible to prevent every single soul on earth from committing atrocities. And even if it wasn’t, even if they could pause the hatred for a day, or a week, or a month, everyone would just continue fighting their wars tomorrow.

 

But why, pray tell, is it be a bad thing to show compassion for one day, or one week, or one month of the year, instead of not at all? Why doesn’t that matter? Why can’t we give each other a break every once in awhile? I will always believe that something is better than nothing at all. 

 

And Goldnose, also known as simply ‘Reginald’, believed that, too.

 

Of course, as a practitioning supervillain, he couldn’t exactly go around talking about ‘love and peace during christmas’ or whatever. But when his employees would approach him on the 24th of december, asking for the next day off, he’d pretend he didn’t like the idea and then give them the next  _ week _ off anyway. It was a well known secret amongst Reginald’s employees. One of the many.

 

That day, they had Pierson ask their boss if they could stay home for christmas. He’d permitted it immediately, which was odd, since he’d usually object to the request at first. Even Pierson, who always had an answer to anything, couldn’t fully explain why.

 

About an hour later, all became clear. The henchers realized he’d been distracted by the prospect of his long-standing nemesis, Bradley Ellington, dropping in from the ceiling and…

 

What was he doing there, anyway? Reginald didn’t have a scheme going on at the moment, and even the agency Ellington worked for didn’t like sending people out during christmas. Nevertheless, they captured the man, but when they were about to tie him to his regular ‘interrogation’ chair, Goldnose ordered them to stop, and secure him to the table at the other end of the room instead. They complied, somewhat suspiciously, but hesitated when they were told to place it under the giant laser hanging from the ceiling.

 

‘What are you waiting for?’ the villain sneered. 

 

Once two of the henchers had rolled Ellington over to the beam, the pair joined the others, who had stepped back to watch the proceedings from a safe distance. When they saw Goldnose walk over to Ellington, remote control in his hand, all held their breath. Surely, he wasn’t going to…?

 

Naturally, they were right: he wasn’t going to. After standing over his terrified captive for a minute, Goldnose stormed off, leaving everyone wondering what the hell had gotten into him. 

 

‘What the hell has gotten into him?’ 

 

Suddenly, everybody started talking, completely disregarding the fact that Ellington, who was more perplexed than anybody, was trying to break out of his bonds. Certainly, there’d be some kind of trick to them, and he’d be out of there in no time. Reginald was just having a bad day.

 

The tumult was cut short by a voice blaring from the speakers, ordering everyone to get back to work. The henchers returned to their posts, confused as ever. 

 

Ellington started picking at his constraints again, which was beginning to seem more and more futile. It didn’t help that his guards were paying attention now, either. As discreetly as he could, he continued. He could’ve sworn one of his captors knew what he was up to, but even if she did, she didn’t do anything about it.

 

After about an hour and a half, he gave up. In his frustration, he pressed his arms against the restraints, desperately trying to get them open. He only succeeded in bruising his wrists. In the end he just lay back on the table, trying to make sense of it all.

 

He and Reginald had been nemeses for seven years. For at least five of those, he’d been sure that the man wasn’t actually trying to kill him. Sure, he’d enjoyed the usual number of death traps, but they always had a way out. There’d be a secret switch, a malfunctioning part, a wire poking out of the machine, at least  _ something  _ that made his escape possible if not completely unavoidable. Up until now.

 

The relationship the two had could be described as complicated, but Ellington didn’t think that was the case at all. It was very simple, in fact: they both worked very dangerous jobs, so they’d made an unspoken agreement: I don’t kill you, you don’t kill me; we foil each other’s plans but avoid casualties. It brought a bit of routine to their hectic lives.

 

Which meant Reginald had to at least like him  _ somewhat _ . If he couldn’t stand him, Ellington would’ve been dead a long time ago. 

 

Although…

 

Was this really the case? When the two just started out, they definitely _did_ hate each other. Ellington had been quite scared of the man, too. Nevertheless, got out of those first encounters. It  _ was _ completely possible to escape from Reginald’s grasp, even if he did have it out for you.

 

Plus, he’d never actually discussed their situation with the guy. He’d just assumed the flaws in the villain’s machines had been there on purpose. What if those had been honest mistakes? What if Reginald was fed up with him, and wanted to end things once and for all?

 

But that wouldn’t explain all the banter though, right? They’d talk during captures, about Bradley’s possibilities of escape (which Reginald would always prove to be faulty), about current events, sometimes even about their life outside of work. They’d laugh together. Ellington knew about the man’s home life, about his family. He remembered everything Reginald ever told him about himself. For government purposes, of course.

 

However, when Bradley thought about it, he realised that didn’t have to mean anything, either. Reginald could’ve just been using him for therapy sessions,  _ if  _ everything he told him was even true. He could’ve just pretended to enjoy the mutual teasing. Supervillains had to be great actors, after all. Maybe all of it was just to give him a false sense of security. That’s what all the facts were pointing to.

 

With nothing else to do, Bradley started analyzing the missions he remembered most clearly (and most fondly). He tried to find a moment, a slip of the tongue,  _ something  _ that would prove Reginald had been sincere all these years. In the end, he found nothing. Nothing that told him there was no possible way that Reginald wouldn’t end his life that day. The realization came like a punch to the gut.

 

He was terrified. Absolutely bloody terrified. Nevertheless, he didn’t lose all hope. He waited patiently for Reginald to come back.

 

In the meantime, he looked around him. He counted the cracks in the walls and the helmets passing through the room. He practiced what he would say when the villain would come in again. He checked the clock every once in awhile. Before he knew it, it was two minutes to five. Reginald never worked past five, so surely-

 

His thought was interrupted by a sudden silence. Everyone around him seized their activities to go stand in a row near the edge of the circular room. The boss was coming in again.

 

It’d been years since he’d been so terrified of Reginald.

 

He listened to the slowly approaching footsteps and waited. When the villain appeared in his field of vision, Ellington tried to get a look at his face, but to no avail. Goldnose walked over to a machine, presumably the one that controlled the laser, and turned a few dials, but Bradley couldn’t see what they were for.

 

Suddenly, Reginald turned around, a cruel smile on his face. Ellington lost all hope of survival.

 

Then, the villain walked over to the tray next to the table. Bradley hadn’t even noticed it being there. Oh well, it’s not like he could’ve reached for it, anyway.

 

Goldnose picked up a set of pliers and held them up threateningly. Instead of using them, however, he put them down, and walked over to one of the scientists. He took the remote from the lab coat's hands and walked back again, a slight spring in his step.

 

Bradley thought he’d prepared himself for this, but he hadn’t. He wasn’t ready to die. As cliché as it sounded, there was so much he still wanted to do. This wasn’t his time, and he suspected Goldnose knew that as well, but even if he did, he didn’t seem to care.

 

His nemesis was standing next to him now, remote control in hand. Just one press of the button, and everything would be over. Bradley looked for a sign of hesitation, but found none. Goldnose lifted up his finger, and pushed-

 

Well, he  _ would’ve _ pushed it if it weren’t for the five o’ clock buzzer.

 

The room came alive again, bustling with henchers, all eager to go home. Before anyone could leave the room, however, Goldnose made an announcement.

 

‘Conference room. Now.’ 

 

\---

 

There wasn’t enough space for the henchers to stand in rows, so they just… stood wherever they could. It was a bit cramped, but nobody objected. At the end of the room, Goldnose was pacing back and forth silently. Eventually, he spoke:

 

‘Ellington  _ will _ die tonight, to begin with-’ 

 

Someone snorted, but tried to cover it up with a cough. 

 

‘Who was that?’

 

The group split apart, leaving one person in the middle. Goldnose walked over and stopped just in front of him. He leaned in, causing the henchman, Macey, to lean back.

 

‘What’s so funny?’ Goldnose whispered.

 

Macey gulped. ‘N-Nothing, sir.’

 

The villain’s eyes narrowed. ‘Is that so?’

 

‘Uh. Well. I mean…’ His eyes darted to his peers, who were looking at him expectantly. 

 

‘Well, we’re not… actually going to kill Ellington  _ tonight _ , are we?’ He hesitated, but then continued. ‘I-It’s christmas eve!’ 

 

‘H-He’s right.’ A henchwoman emerged from the crowd. ‘What’s going on? What happened to our no-violence holiday policy?’

 

‘This  _ does not _ fall under that policy,’ Reginald snarled.

 

‘What? Of course it does!’ A voice rang out from the back of the crowd. ‘We shouldn’t even be here right now!’

 

‘Also, shouldn’t we be getting overtime pay for this?’

 

‘Yeah, and I’m not cleaning up the body.’

 

The tension in the room disappeared immediately. Everyone started talking through each other, but after a few seconds, Goldnose lost his patience.

 

‘Enough!’ he roared.

 

The room was silent. It waited for the boss to speak again.

 

Goldnose clenched his fists. He looked around, but avoided the eyes of his employees. Finally, he sighed and said:

 

‘Alright. Go home.’

 

He didn’t have to say that twice. The room was cleared out in a matter of seconds, save for three people: Pierson, a greenhorn henchman, and Goldnose himself.

 

Just as Reginald was about to leave for home as well, he was stopped by Pierson.

 

‘Hiya, boss. Can I talk to you about something?’

 

‘What is it?’ he responded offhandedly.

 

‘Yeah, you know how me and the other live-ins are having our christmas dinner here in the facility?’ 

 

Not everyone who worked for Goldnose had someone to come back to at the end of the day. Some of those henchers just lived alone, but others chose to stay at Goldnose's headquarters. Those who went with the latter were a whole separate family of their own. 

 

‘Yes, is there a problem?’

 

‘Oh, no, not at all, it’s just that we kind of feel bad for Ellington and wanted to include him in our little get-together-’ 

 

This caught his attention. ‘You want to do  _ what _ ?’

 

‘Well, the dude deserves a last meal and we thought this was the perfect opportunity. We will need to release him for a little…’ 

 

‘Absolutely not.’

 

‘... while. Wait, why not?’ 

 

‘Oh, sure why not?’ He threw his hands in the air dramatically. ‘Why not let him go home afterwards as well? Say, do you think we have any containers for leftovers?’ 

 

Pierson didn’t let the response discourage him. ‘We won’t let him escape, we’ll just feed him. I really don’t see the problem with our request.’

 

‘Oh, really, you don’t?’ 

 

‘No, I don’t. What’s the problem?’

 

‘He’ll escape,  _ is the problem _ .’

 

Pierson scoffed. ‘What? No, he won’t. Come on boss, have some faith in your expert employees.’

 

‘That’s not the problem! It doesn’t matter how skilled you are, if you let him out for even a  _ second _ , he’s gone before you know it and then I’ll never be able to do it!’

 

‘Do what?’

 

That caught Reginald off guard. ‘Do. What?’ Pierson repeated. His boss didn’t respond.

 

‘See! You can’t even  _ say  _ you’re going to kill him. How do you expect  _ anyone _ to believe-’

 

Before he could finish his sentence, he was grabbed by the collar and slammed against the wall. 

 

‘Okay, wow, geez, didn’t mean to insult you but could you maybe, uh, let me go because I’m k-kind of having trouble to breathe.’ 

 

‘He’s staying there, do you understand?' he whispered threatingly. 'You’re not releasing him. Do you understand?’

 

‘Y-yeah, yeah I get it but, if you could just let me go that’d be fantastic.’ 

 

Before he knew it, Pierson’s feet were back on the ground. Reginald turned his back to him.

 

‘Phew… damn, boss, I forgot how much strength was stored in that tiny body of yours.’

 

Goldnose ignored the quip, and turned his head slightly. He sighed. ‘Good day, now.’

 

‘But can’t we like, tie him up to a dining table inst-’

 

‘Good day.’

 

‘His hands would only be able to handle a knife and fork  _ above  _ the tab-’

 

‘Pierson,’ Reginald said, eyes tired. ‘Just go.’

 

The henchman realized his plan wouldn’t get approved, and so he stopped demurring.

 

‘Alright. Merry Christmas, boss.’ And with that, he left the conference room. The only people left were now Goldnose and the newbie, who’d been listening in on the entire argument. Reginald grabbed his coat from the chair he’d placed it on and attempted to leave, but was halted by the one remaining henchman.

 

‘Mr. Goldnose, sir?’ 

 

Reginald sighed. ‘Yes, what is it?’ 

 

‘Just wanted to check if you were okay, sir. You seemed a little on edge just now.’ 

 

The villain looked at him incredulously. What was this supposed to be, some sort of joke? He barked out a laugh.

 

‘Oh, I’m  _ great _ , couldn’t you tell?’ 

 

‘Sir, I’m serious. Something’s bothering you, I can tell.’

 

‘Wow, really? Maybe you should become a psychiatrist instead.’

 

The henchman sighed as well. ‘Just let me talk to you for a second, sir. You need to talk to _someone_. Masking your pain with sarcasm isn’t helping anybody.’

 

Reginald looked at him curiously. 

 

‘State your name, soldier.’

 

‘Marjoy, sir. Caleb Marjoy.’

 

‘You’re not scared of me, are you, Caleb?’

 

Caleb didn’t seem surprised to be addressed by his first name. ‘Indeed I am not, sir.’

 

‘But you did just see me lose my temper.’

 

‘I did, sir, but I don’t think you’ll do it again. You looked remorseful after the fact. Like you wish you hadn’t gotten mad at him.’

 

Goldnose regarded him for a moment. ‘Do you consider yourself a good judge of character, Caleb?’

 

‘Why, sir, yes I do.’ He puffed out his chest.

 

‘Then you should know you’re not getting anything out of this conversation.’ Reginald started walking away, but Caleb followed him.

 

‘Sir, I beg your pardon, but I’m actually getting quite a lot.’

 

‘Hm, really? Like what?’

 

‘Well, I may have not concluded this from  _ talking  _ to you, but you dislike violence, which is quite strange for someone in this line of business. You wouldn’t be a supervillain if you’d always felt like this. Which means you’ve grown soft over the years.’

 

Reginald didn’t know how to answer, so he stayed quiet instead. How come he didn’t remember hiring this guy?

 

‘Now, I’m not sure what exactly caused this,’ Caleb continued, ‘but I’m guessing it was a number of factors. Maybe you had children, or you grew fond of your accomplices. Perhaps you even fell in love-’

 

Goldnose interrupted him. ‘Where are you going with this?’

 

‘I’m just trying to say, sir, that maybe you’re not that cut out for this thing anymore. Maybe you should consider redeeming yourself.’ 

 

The comment surprised Reginald and halted him in his step. Who the hell did this guy think he was?

 

‘Redeem myself?’

 

‘Yes, sir. And wouldn’t this be the perfect time to do it? We’re in the middle of the holiday season!’

 

‘... You’re a funny one, Mr. Marjoy.’

 

‘Oh, I’m not trying to be funny, sir. I’m completely serious. You should take an example from the guy from that one Dickens story, what was his name again-’

 

‘Scrooge,’ Reginald replied, surprisedly.

 

‘Yes, that’s the one! You know the story, sir?’

 

‘Well, yes. It… happens to be one of my favourites,’ he mumbled.

 

‘So then you’re not opposed to the idea of quitting as a supervillain, sir?’

 

The two of them arrived at the parking lot of the facility. Reginald took this as an opportunity to get out of the situation.

 

‘Sure,’ he responded.

 

‘You don’t sound convinced, sir. I may have to send the three spirits of Christmas over to your house if things don’t change from here.’

 

Reginald smiled somewhat bitterly. ‘Sure, Caleb. Have a nice evening.’ 

 

He walked over to his car, leaving the henchman behind. When he drove away, he gave one last look to the place they’d just been standing, but Caleb was gone.

 

\---

 

When he got home, everything was the same as always. The only difference was the christmas tree propped up in the corner of the living room.

 

His kids ran towards him as soon as he appeared in the door opening, and for the first time that day, he smiled, genuinely. 

 

His wife, Barbara, was walking in and out of the kitchen, putting all sorts of trays and bowls on the dinner table. Reginald's smile almost faded, but he managed to save it just before she looked up at him. The expression on her face made it evident that she knew it wasn’t sincere.

 

The dinner was less quiet than usual. The kids loved christmas, and couldn’t stop going on about it. They talked and talked about the christmas specials they’d seen on tv, the presents they’d asked for and how pretty the tree looked. Reginald was happy to listen to their babbling.

 

After everyone was done eating, the parents cleaned up the table, leaving their children to go play. His face dropped as soon as the kids were out if the room.

 

Barbara and he did the dishes in silence, both refusing to look at the other. When they were done, Barbara made the kids ready for bed, and tucked them in. Reginald watched from the doorway. As soon as Barbara left to go sleep as well (she’d been turning in early quite often lately), Reginald entered the bedroom to give his kids a good night kiss.

 

‘No waking up in the middle of the night to catch Santa this time, alright?’

 

‘Aaaaawwwww.’ the children pouted.

 

He chuckled. ‘Yes, yes, I know, but Santa doesn’t like being seen. Don’t you two want to open your presents tomorrow?’

 

They nodded in unison.

 

‘Thought so. Sleep well, darlings. See you tomorrow.’

 

‘Goodnight, dad.’

 

He was exhausted. Before he’d retire for the night, however, there was one last thing he needed to do.

 

As quiet as he could, he sneaked over to his office, and opened the door. There, he opened a small panel. Behind it were a black screen and a keyboard. When he punched in the five-digit password, the screen came to life.

 

Bradley was still there. The security camera showed Reginald a dark room, with his nemesis lying in the middle of it. He appeared to be sleeping.

 

Reginald knew this wasn’t healthy. He’d have to kill the man tomorrow. Looking at him through a hidden lens wouldn’t change that. He knew he’d have to get over him soon, or his entire life would be ruined.

 

But, procrastinator as he was, he decided to put that off for the moment. Bradley was moving in his sleep a lot. 

 

_ Must be having a bad dream _ , Reginald thought.  _ Probably about me _ .

 

‘Honey?’ There was a woman’s voice behind him. ‘What’re you doing?’

 

‘Nothing,’ Reginald said, not taking his eyes off the screen. ‘Go back to bed, I’ll come in a minute.’

 

Barbara sighed. ‘Alright.’

 

He kept his promise. Exactly a minute later, he entered their bedroom, and lay down in bed. He didn’t bother to change out of his work clothes. Barbara didn’t comment on it.

 

Falling asleep was difficult for Reginald.  _ Especially  _ on nights like this. He knew his wife was awake, too: she breathed differently when she was asleep. He’d been with her long enough to be able to tell the difference.

 

He cleared his mind as best as he could, and eventually, fell asleep. Three ghosts watched him do so.


	2. The Split-Up Spirit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Ghost of Christmas Past takes Reginald on the first step of his journey.
> 
> No, wait. Ghosts. Two of them.

Reginald was a man of action. There was nothing he hated more than sitting around. He wanted to change things, which was why he’d become a supervillain in the first place. It was one of the few reasons why he hadn’t had a career change  _ yet _ . At least he was doing something.

 

This trait proved to be genetic. Neither of his children could be in one place for more than a few seconds, except for when they were concentrating on something. They were always making plans and causing mischief. While it gave their mother a headache, it made their father happier than ever.

 

… on most occasions.

 

There were some instances where even Reginald had to put his foot down. The year before, for example. Laurie, the eldest, had somehow gotten it into her head that Santa would bring the presents at exactly 3:55 am, so she set an alarm at 3:54 to make sure her and her brother could catch the man in the act. 

 

Of course, she had to set it to the loudest setting possible. They couldn’t miss seeing  _ Santa Claus _ . 

 

And it worked! The two woke up immediately. Just like their parents. And the neighbours. And the neighbours’ dog. And the other neighbour’s baby. 

 

It scared off Santa, too. Laurie and Theo didn’t even catch a glimpse of him! They really should’ve thought things through. 

 

That’s not the point, though. The point is that, when Reginald was woken up by children running around his bed, he wasn’t surprised. The surprise came when he jolted up, and saw that his children weren’t in their pajamas anymore. Both were wearing a white tunic, a big, sparkly, expensive-looking belt, and a little white bonnet.

 

When they noticed they’d woken him up, Laurie said:

 

‘Ah, finally! Man, how did you sleep through all of that? We’ve been trying to get you up for twenty minutes!’ 

 

‘Yeah, what took you so long?’ 

 

Reginald looked at them drowsily. ‘Laurie, Theo, what’re you doing up this late? And what are you wearing?’

 

‘Huh? Oh, I get the confusion. We’re the ghost of christmas past!’ the girl clarified.

 

He looked at her for a moment, then started rubbing his eyes. ‘Sure, honey.’

 

‘Hey, I mean it! I, or we, split into two so we could morph into your children, so you wouldn’t be uncomfortable! We’ve, uh, kind of had problems with accidentally scaring people’, she admitted sheepishly.

 

‘Jacob told you we’d come, right? Come on, he must’ve!’ the other child continued. ‘That’s like, his only job.’ 

 

‘That’s not true!’ the girl objected. ‘He also picks out targets, comes up with strategies…’

 

‘What’re you kids talking about?’ Reginald interrupted. ‘It’s one a.m.! Go back to bed!’

 

‘God, do we have to explain everything to him now? But that’s so much work!’ the girl exclaimed. She ran over to the other side of the bed and flopped down on it dramatically, ignoring the fact that there was already someone lying there. Surprisingly, Barbara didn’t wake up when the child fell onto her. Taken aback, Reginald quickly checked for her pulse.

 

‘Don’t worry, she’s not  _ dead _ . We’re just not corporeal at the moment, so she can’t feel, hear or see us.’ The boy shook his head. ‘Man, what kind of life do you have to live to check for a pulse when someone doesn’t immediately wake up.’

 

Completely missing the point in his drowsiness, Reginald asked: ‘Where’d you learn what corporeal means?’ 

 

The children looked at each other, exasperated.

 

‘We’re not your children!’ they yelled in unison.

 

‘Alright, alright! Keep it down! Someone might hear you!’ he hushed.

 

‘No, they won’t. We just explained they won’t. You’re a bit slow in the morning, aren’t you?’

 

Reginald blinked, then narrowed his eyes. ‘Did Pierson put you up to this? I swear, if he did-’

 

‘See, this is why we have a middle man. Why can’t Marley just do his job so we can do ours!’

 

At that moment, the penny dropped. ‘Did you say Marley?’

 

‘Uh-huh.’

 

‘Jacob… Marley.’

 

‘Yes.’

 

He put his head in his hands. ‘Jesus Christ’, he whispered.

 

‘No, Jacob Marley.’ the smaller ghost clarified.

 

‘No, I mean… God, of course. Of course this has to happen to me. Of course! Of course. Look, I’ve had some interesting dreams but this  _ really  _ takes the cake.’

 

The girl was about to protest when her counterpart stopped her.

 

‘Yeah, sure… let’s go with that. Now, are you ready to come with us? You know, visit places from your past and all that jazz.’ 

 

‘Might as well’, he answered with some chagrin. 

 

\---

 

They arrived at the headquarters in the blink of an eye.

 

‘If only commuting was this quick’, Reginald mumbled. 

 

‘All right! Here we are’, the girl said enthusiastically. ‘So this is where you work, huh? It looks really cool!’ 

 

‘Yes, but… Past. You’re past?’ 

 

‘Yeah, sure. And you can call my “brother”... uhhhh… Prior!’

 

‘... Right. What are we doing here? Aren’t you supposed to lead me through my childhood village, show me a past self I’d almost forgotten?’

 

‘Well, that’s what we usually do, but…’ She thoughtfully looked into the distance, then shrugged.

 

‘Yeah, I’m not sure what happened either… Maybe the people upstairs made a mistake? I dunno.’ 

 

Before Reginald could respond, a voice rang out from the other side of the room. 

 

‘Hey Mr. Goldnose? What’s this do?’ Prior asked.

 

‘Don’t touch that!’ 

 

‘Relax, I’m not even able to. Immaterial body and all. I’m just curious.’ 

 

‘Oh. Right.’ He cleared his throat. ‘That is-’ 

 

Suddenly, he stopped, and stepped back, nearly stumbling over his own feet.

 

‘That’s… not supposed to be here.’’

 

‘What do you mean? You realize we’re looking at the past here, right?’

 

‘Of course I understand,’ he snapped. ‘It’s just… it was destroyed when…’ 

 

Before he could finish his thought, someone new appeared on the scene. A sophisticated-looking man ran in. Well, as sophisticated you could look with an evidently oversized dress shirt and ripped trousers. He was looking around anxiously, as if something was going to jump him at any moment.

 

‘Shit’, Reginald whispered.

 

‘Isn’t that…?’

 

‘Mr. Ellington, I presume?’ 

 

A figure appeared behind Ellington, his voice startling him. The spy turned around swiftly.

 

‘Who are you?’

 

Suddenly, 7 armed guards appeared from the shadows.

 

‘Your worst nightmare’, the villain retorted.

 

The guards jumped to action immediately, running at Ellington like there was no tomorrow. They ran straight through the trio standing near the hero. In his shock, Reginald didn’t notice them passing through him at all.

 

Ellington didn’t go out without putting up a fight: He eliminated two soldiers by a kick in the crotch and a clean hammer punch on the nose, and elbowed a third one in the eye, causing them to stumble back. The latter then ran at him in an attempt to throw him on the ground, but Ellington stepped aside quickly, which caused the hencher to collide with someone else. 

 

‘Your soldiers are comically bad at hand-to-hand combat’, Past commented. In any other situation, Goldnose would’ve told her to be patient, and see what would happen next. This time, however, he didn’t have the energy.

 

Once it’d looked as if Ellington had taken all of them out, he turned around to face Reginald (to clarify, the Reginald from the flashback: had he looked at the present version of him, the villain would’ve had a heart attack). 

 

Ellington didn’t conclude his fight with a one-liner, which Reginald remembered had surprised him at the time. It was one of the many surprises about the man he’d come to encounter.

 

As the secret agent tried to run away, something grabbed his foot, causing him to fall to the ground. Three henchers were instantly on top of him, holding him down. The others walked over to Reginald, saluted him, and then went on their way.

 

‘You had them pretend to be down so the capture would be easier?’ Prior asked. Both he and his other half were looking at Reginald, who was staring into the distance, refusing to look at either of them.

 

‘I used to think I was so clever’, he uttered.

 

The spirits turned their heads to look at the spectacle again. Ellington was being tied to a chair, his struggling only slightly delaying his captors job of securing him.

 

Once the spy had been constrained, the henchers left the room, leaving Ellington with his new villainous counterpart.

 

‘Wait, shouldn’t they stay to make sure that he’s caught even if he gets out of the chair somehow? Why’d you have him leave?’ Past inquired.

 

‘I used to be very cocky as well’, Reginald answered, watching himself walk over to Ellington, knowing quite well what was going to happen next. 

 

‘Quite a situation we’ve found ourselves in, isn’t it?’ Goldnose noted with some humour. The agent didn’t respond, only looked at him, fear in his eyes.

 

‘Not talking, are we?’ 

 

‘I’d talk if there was anything to talk  _ about _ .’

 

‘Oh, but there’s  _ plenty  _ to talk about, Mr. Ellington.’ He strutted over to the corner to the room, where he removed a pair of pliers from a tray seemingly filled to the brim with torture implements. Ellington shifted in his chair, obviously uncomfortable.

 

Goldnose walked back to where Ellington was sitting, shifting the pliers in his hands. ‘For example,’ he continued, ‘what you’ve been sent here for.’ 

 

‘Well, I certainly can’t tell you anything about that, I’m sorry to say.’

 

‘Oh, you’re not sorry. Not  _ yet _ . But you will be soon, I assure you.’ He eyed the instrument in his hands as if it were one of his most prized possessions. Instinctively, Ellington leaned back as far as he could. He made no effort to conceal the terror on his face.

 

This, of course, didn’t go unnoticed by Goldnose. He regarded the man curiously, then leaned in a bit to take a closer look at his face. 

 

‘You’re scared of me’, he stated.

 

‘Of course I’m bloody scared of you waving that thing in front of my face.’ Goldnose’s close proximity discomforted the spy immensely.

 

The villain took a step back. ‘If you’re so scared of me, why not just tell me what I need to know?’

 

‘I have principles.’

‘Ha! Principles?’ he exclaimed. ‘A spy with principles? You must be new.’

 

‘Well, I am.’ His candidness surprised Goldnose.

 

‘You are?’

 

‘Yes, I am. Don’t exactly understand why they sent me on a mission like  _ this  _ on my first day in the field, but hey. Gotta get experience somehow, right?’

 

Reginald furrowed his brow in confusion. ‘Why would you tell me that?’ 

 

Ellington looked up at him questioningly. ‘Why wouldn’t I?’

 

‘You can’t just show me your hand like that!’ Goldnose said indignantly. ‘It’s like you  _ want  _ me to kill you!’ 

 

‘No, that’s not the case. I just thought it’d help me to be sincere with you.’

 

‘Why?’ 

 

‘Well, since you’ve just started out yourself, I’d gathered it’d get me some sympathy.’

 

‘The scar tissue on your face. It’s fairly recent, but not very. Your guards wear patches on their clothes with golden noses, so they must seem significant to you. It’s not just a covering to you, it’s a part of your identity. The scar tissue flows into the covered up area of your face, which means the two are linked, either acquired at the same time, or one after the other, but nevertheless in the same time frame.’ 

 

While Ellington gave his explanation, Reginald fumbled with the pliers in an attempt to intimidate Ellington. Since Ellington was so absorbed in his own deductions, it proved to be futile. 

 

‘Because the scarring is quite recent, the nose is, too. You’re using your nose as a trademark, so it has something to do with you becoming a supervillain. However,’ he added, ’you do have some previous experience in interrogation. You’re used to prying the truth out of people. I’m guessing you used to work for someone else, probably as a right hand, then fought them, leaving them dead and you badly scarred. You then started out your own organization. So, technically, you’re not new to the field, but you are new to being able to do whatever you please. This makes you act recklessly.’

 

As if to prove his point, Goldnose grabbed the front of Ellington’s shirt and pulled, nearly raising the chair from the ground. ‘Well, aren’t you just-’

 

Before he could complete his sentence, Ellington headbutted him and sent him stumbling backwards. When he looked up, slightly dizzy, he found that the agent of him was gone: he’d apparently removed his restraints when Goldnose wasn’t looking. From the corner of his eye, he saw a shadow disappear behind a corner

 

‘Son of a…’ 

 

The other Goldnose viewed the proceedings with a blank expression. In actuality, the atmosphere in the room was what shocked him the most: over the years, he’d started to remember this moment fondly, as if they’d already gotten along somewhat during their first encounter. He realized, more than ever, that memories were deceptive.

 

Only when Reginald’s previous self had left the room, yelling at his soldiers not to let Ellington escape, the ghosts dared to speak again. 

 

‘You really hated him, didn’t you?’ Prior asked.

 

‘I did’, he said. ‘I still do.’

 

The spirits looked at each other. ‘No, you don’t!’ they objected.

 

‘I  _ do _ ’, he responded.

 

‘You’re lying! You don’t hate him at all! You’re just acting that way so you start believing it yourself and it’ll be easier for you to kill him!’ 

 

‘You don’t know what you’re talking about’, Goldnose growled. He started walking away from them, ignoring the fact that they were his only way out of here.

 

‘I’ll tell you what I think’, Prior announced. ‘Will you listen to what I have to say?’

 

‘ _ No _ .’ 

 

‘Alright, fine, have fun being stuck in this memory forever then! Where you can see yourself hurt him over and over-’

 

‘Fine! Fine, just, jesus christ, get on with it.’ He put his head in his hands.

 

‘Okay. Now, at first, you were incredible irked by the mere concept of him. A spy who refused to lie to you, who’d deduced that you weren’t as experienced as you let yourself out to be, had defeated you. You became obsessed with vanquishing him. You started digging into his life and tried to use the information against him, but it didn’t work. You started building all kinds of elusive traps, but he always seemed to get out of them somehow. Over time, all of this became some kind of game. You’d come up with a scheme, he’d show up and foil it. After a while, you realized he didn’t annoy you any longer. You’d began to like your little routine. And because you didn’t want to mess it up, you made sure he’d always have a plan of escape.’ 

 

Reginald was silent.

 

‘But what I don’t get is your reason for wanting to kill him all of a sudden. What’s happened?’ 

 

‘Uhm, I think we’ll get an answer to that soon enough’, Past interrupted. The buckle of her belt was flashing, indicating they had to move to the next memory. 

 

‘Wow, that late already? Let’s go, then.’

 

They entered the next memory in a flash. Reginald looked around, trying to recall what could be so special about this place that he’d remembered it so clearly. It dawned on him when he noticed a brown haired, attractive woman sitting at the bar, apparently waiting for her drink. The spirits noticed him staring at her.

 

‘Who’s that?’ Past inquired.

 

‘Barbara’, he muttered.

 

Reginald watched as his past self walked over to the lady and asked whether the barstool next to her was occupied. He couldn’t help himself; it was like watching a car crash.

 

‘Isn’t that your wife? Is this where you two met?’ Prior asked. He wasn’t granted an answer.

 

‘Wait! I think I get it now!’ Past called out triumphantly. Reginald tore his eyes away from the pair at the bar and turned towards the little girl, grateful that he could focus on something else.

 

‘It’s your wife! That’s why you want to kill Ellington!’ 

 

‘That doesn’t explain anything!’ Prior opposed.

 

‘No, wait, I have a theory. If you got the chance to see yourself meeting the person you were going to marry, you’d be ecstatic. But…’ She turned to Reginald. ‘You don’t seem happy at all! You’re not in love with your wife anymore, are you?’

 

His eye twitched slightly, confirming Past’s suspicions. 

 

‘What happened? Did she change? Did you change? Did you two just grew apart?’ 

 

She waited for Reginald to answer, but he averted his eyes, so she went on.

‘Eh. Guess it doesn’t matter that much anyway. The point is, you’re not in love with her anymore, but you still have a lot of affection to give. When you woke up, you thought we were your children, and you were so sweet to us, even though we were jumping around in the middle of the night! You were so patient with us. You have so much love to give, but not enough people to give it to. You can’t bring yourself to be affectionate towards your wife, because you don’t want her to get any false hope. That’s why you grew so attached to Ellington: you finally had someone you could show that affection to. Someone on your level, I mean.’ 

 

Through the entirety of her speech, he hadn’t been able to look at her directly, afraid that he’d either give off the wrong idea, or worse, the right one. When Past was finished, Reginald said:

 

‘I guess that’s one way of looking at it.’ 

 

‘Am I wrong?’ She tilted her head in curiosity.

 

Before Reginald could give another vague answer, he noticed that her belt was flashing again. He turned his gaze to the bar, where the two seats he’d been focused on earlier were now occupied by new customers. He was somewhat glad he didn’t have to see them leave for the rest of their unhappy life together.

 

‘Your belt’, he said.

 

Past looked down, and so did Prior. ‘Oh! You’re right. Besides, I think the next one might be the final past vision. Not sure where we’re going, though, since it doesn’t seem to be in chronological order.’ 

 

‘Right’, Reginald said, tiredly. He just wanted to get away from there.

 

‘Here we go!’ Prior warned. Before Goldnose knew it, the trio was standing in his house. 

 

They weren’t alone: a past Goldnose, one from only a few months earlier, was sitting at the dinner table, leaning over a bunch of papers, occasionally scribbling something onto one.

 

Reginald wanted to ask why they were here, but was interrupted by a woman entering the area, asking his past self a question.

 

‘We need to talk.’

 

‘What about?’ Reginald asked offhandedly, not looking up from his papers. 

 

‘You.’

 

‘Did I do something wrong?’ 

‘Yes, I mean, no, but… God, this is harder than it was supposed to be. Alright, listen.’

 

His wife’s hesitation intrigued him, and he looked up from his activities.

 

‘You need to stop doing this.’

 

‘Doing what?’

 

‘That.’ She pointed towards his papers. ‘Everything. We’ve talked about this before, and every time the conversation would end with you, promising things would change soon. But they haven’t. And they won’t, if it goes on like this. So right now, I want you to listen to me.’

 

She could feel his eyes on her, so she took a deep breath.

 

‘We’re not happy. That’s a fact. But we need to keep this up for them. For Laurie. For Theo.’

 

Reginald looked down, pretending to be engrossed in his work.

 

‘What makes you say we’re not happy?’

 

‘You want to leave. If it weren’t for the kids, we would’ve been done for long ago.’

 

‘Have I ever sought release?’

 

‘In words? No. Never.’

 

‘In what, then?’

 

‘In a changed nature; in an altered spirit. You’re not the same person you used to be. You’re much different from who you were before.’ She moved towards him, and put her hand over his. ‘You don’t want to fight anymore. I know you don’t. I know that much about you.’

 

‘Is that so?’ Reginald responded, pulling his hand away from under Barbara’s.

 

‘Listen to me. I don’t want them to come home from school one day to hear that their daddy has been found dead by the riverside. They don’t deserve that.  _ I  _ don’t deserve that. It’s been long enough, Reginald. You need to let your plans go. You need to focus on your family. They need you.  I need you.’ 

 

The newer Reginald, the one watching the conversation, felt just like the old one looked: small, defeated, sad. He didn’t even bother hiding it: the only people there would be gone soon, anyway.

 

‘Alright. You’re right. I’ll take care of it’, the old Goldnose said. He picked up his papers and went on his way. Barbara turned to the kitchen, and started preparing that dinner. 

 

Reginald clenched his fist, staring at his wife’s back. ‘What? Cat got your tongue?’ he said to the ghosts, spitting out the words. ‘No theories about me?’

 

‘We’re sorry you’ve had to go through that,’ Past said sympathetically. Reginald scoffed.

 

‘May we ask you what happened between you two?’ Prior asked hesitantly. ‘I-It might help if you talk about it.’ 

 

To their surprise, the man started talking.

 

‘That’s the thing; not much happened. We started dating, got married too quickly, and had children. Now we’re stuck in an unhappy marriage, doing our best for the kids not to notice.’

 

‘Is that why you’re going to kill Ellington? Because he ties you to your practice and you have to quit?’ 

 

‘Yes’, he answered lifelessly.

 

For a moment, no one was speaking. 

 

‘Do you want to go home?’

 

‘Sure.’

 

The spirits looked at each other, then teleported the group to Reginald’s bedroom. Goldnose walked over to his bed and lay down in it without saying another word.

 

‘Uhm… the ghost of christmas present is coming soon. You should probably get some rest. Maybe prepare, they can be a bit of a handful-’

 

‘Yes. Alright.’

 

‘O-Oh. Uh. Goodbye, then.’

 

‘Goodbye.’ 

 

Next thing Reginald knew, they were gone. Not that he cared. For his part, they could’ve stood there all night, pitying him. He wouldn’t have noticed, nor would he have cared. He felt numb. In his apathetic state, he fell asleep.


	3. The Feast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The jolly spirit of Christmas Present shows Reginald what his employees really think about him.

He didn’t sleep long. He woke up after just an hour, but it felt like a minute to him.

 

Remembering the story his mind had based this nightmare on, he half expected to be greeted by the sight of a mountain of food, with a jolly figure sitting at the top. This was not the case. Even the jolly figure was nowhere to be seen.

 

When he looked around, he noticed that the door to the bedroom was slightly open, and light was streaming through it. He mentally prepared himself as best he could for the following events, then got up and entered the corridor.

 

The light was on there, but that was about all of interest there. At the end of the hallway, there was another open door, and Reginald approached it slowly.

 

He stepped into the living area and started to inspect every nook and cranny of it. Somewhere, there had to be a clue—

 

‘Boo!’

 

Startled, he turned around, and attempted to knock out the perpetrator. When he saw that his hand had gone straight through their body, he quickly pulled it back and looked up to see whose face this spirit had borrowed.

 

It was Barbara’s.

 

‘Ha! That never gets old’, the ghost said gleefully. ‘Nice reflexes, though. If I were a person, I’d have been down in no time!’

 

It’d been a while since he’d seen that face so childishly happy. He’d have to get used to this personality tied to that body.

 

‘You’re the ghost of Christmas present?’

 

She nodded. ‘Indeed I am. May I ask what you were looking for just now?’

 

‘Nothing important’, he mumbled.

 

‘Really? Hm…’ She looked around, trying to find the answer for herself. She realized it wasn’t anything to be found in that room. At least, not yet.

 

‘Ah, of course! You’re a fan! You wanted to see the “turkeys, geese, game, poultry, brawn, great joints of meat”, and all that jazz, didn’t you?’ She smiled at Reginald, who obviously didn’t want to admit it. ‘That can be arranged.’

 

She pulled a small staff, that instantly grew larger in her hand. She then started running around the room, waving the wand from left to right. Soon, the room was filled with all kinds of delicious food. 

‘And now for the finishing touch.’

 

With a final wave of her wand, a throne made out of food appeared in the kitchen. The ingredients for it sprang from a big cornucopia, which seemed to have materialized out of nowhere.

 

Reginald would never admit that seeing this in person was a childhood dream of is, but nevertheless, it was. Being from a poor household, he’d dreamed what it would be like often enough. But even th ough this was better than he could’ve ever dreamed it to be, he couldn’t fully enjoy it. Not like this.

 

When the ghost was done, she climbed up to the throne, and sat on it like a queen. She then spread her arms and said:

 

‘I am the Ghost of Christmas Present. Look upon me!’

 

The green robe Reginald so reverently remembered was now a dress that reached the ghost’s ankles, with white fur around the bottom and the sleeves. Her feet were bare, her hair was loose, and a crown made of twigs sat on her head.

 

Present stood up and descended her throne, coming eye-to-eye with Reginald. ‘Ah, I just love doing that. Haven’t had much chance to recently. Budget cuts, you know how it is. But since you specifically asked for it, I couldn’t exactly say no, could I?’

 

Reginald snapped out of his trance. ‘I didn’t ask for anything.’

 

‘Sure you didn’t’, she said with a wink. ‘Now, let’s not delay this any further, shall we? I have something to show you!’

 

‘Just one thing? I want my money back.’

 

‘Oh, honey. It’ll be quite telling, I assure you.’ She patted his cheek, then stepped back and held out her arm. It unsettled Reginald.

 

‘As you may have noticed, I like to do my part with a bit more flair to it. Touch my robe.’

 

Reginald hesitated.

 

‘Come on, don’t be such a wimp. I assure you it’s one hundred percent safe.’

 

He reached his hand out warily.

 

‘Ugh, I have to do everything around here!’ She grabbed his arm and put it on her sleeve.

 

Holly, mistletoe, red berries, ivy, turkeys, geese, game, poultry, brawn, meat, pigs, sausages, oysters, pies, puddings, fruit and punch, all vanished instantly. So did the room, and the light: their new location was dark as the night.

 

‘What the hell was that for?’

 

‘You couldn’t have stood there all evening. I have a deadline here!’ she explained. ‘Now, tell me what you see. Where are we?’

 

When he looked around, he realized he recognized the room: they’d gone to his headquarters again. Although the lights were off, Reginald could still make out a silhouette at the other end of the place. It was Bradley, sleeping peacefully. As peacefully as he could, at least.

 

‘What’s this supposed to be?’ Goldnose scoffed. ‘You think staring at him will change my mind? It won’t.’ 

 

‘No, they wouldn’t have me just show something this boring. Let’s see… ah!’ She pointed at another part of the room. ‘There they come!’ 

 

All of a sudden, the lights were turned on. Two people came in, carrying boxes full of Christmas decorations. Reginald recognized them immediately: they were employees of his. Cassandra and Pierson. They were wearing red sweaters, and Cassandra had ribbons in her hair.

 

‘What are they doing?’ 

 

‘Ssshhh.’

 

The henchers put down the boxes, and started unpacking them. The sound awoke Ellington.

 

‘Let’s see… there we go!’ Cass said, pulling out a pair of reindeer antlers from one of the boxes. ‘I knew this had to be around here somewhere.’ 

 

‘You’re seriously going to wear it?’

 

‘Duh. If you won’t, I will.’

Pierson was about to respond when he saw something moving in the distance. 

 

‘Well, look who’s up!’ he said, walking over to the source of the movement. ‘Good morning, sleeping beauty. How’re you doing?’ 

 

Ellington looked up at him questioningly. He opened his mouth to ask a question, but was cut short by another voice. 

 

‘Dude, what the hell kind of list  _ is  _ this?’ A woman entered the room, her eyes fixed on a piece of paper in her hand. 

 

‘What’s the problem with it?’ Arthur asked offendedly.

 

‘It’s just… goose? Seriously? Norfolk Biffins? Roasted chestnuts? Twelfth cake? What the hell even  _ is  _ a twelfth cake?’

 

‘Wait, that’s not supposed to be on there.’ He pulled the sheet of paper from her hands, took out a pen from his breast pocket, and crossed out the last item on the list. ‘You’re supposed to eat those on the 6th of January.’

 

‘Whatever. Do we even have a goose? I think Martha was preparing a turkey. You know, the one the boss got for us.’ 

 

‘What? How could she!’ 

 

He ran off, presumably to go talk to Martha. The woman let out an exasperated sigh.

 

‘Hi, Dee!’ Cassandra called out to her.

 

‘Cass! Hi!’ She turned around quickly when she recognized the voice. ‘Sorry for all that, Arthur was being an ass again.’

 

‘Ah, well, when isn’t he. Here, come help me put up the decorations.’ Cassandra held up a glittery, silver garland.

 

‘Oh! Yeah, sure.’ 

 

‘Absolutely hopeless, aren’t they?’ Pierson said, only loud enough for Ellington to hear. ‘Dee’s had a crush on her for as long as I can remember. I’ve been trying to get her to ask Cass out, but she never wants to. Doesn’t want to ruin what they have, she says. You ever felt like that?’

 

Ellington ignored the question to ask one of his own. ‘What’s going on?’

 

‘Well, since you’re going to die tomorrow, or…’ Pierson looked at the clock on the wall. 2:30 am.

 

‘... technically, today, we decided to give you a last meal before you kick the bucket.’

 

Ellington stared back at him in shock, unable to say anything.

 

‘Gotta apologize for the circumstances, though. The boss doesn’t know we’re doing this. When I asked if we could, he got all ballistic. He’s got a video feed of this place at home, so we didn’t want to do this at a time where he could check the footage. But, I mean,  _ technically _ we’re obeying his orders. He just said that we couldn’t release you, but he didn’t say we couldn’t feed you. Since you can’t use your hands, we’re just going to stuff your mouth with turkey, if that’s alright with you.’

 

Bradley opened his mouth, then closed it again. 

 

‘I-I see’, he stammered eventually.

 

The ghost and Reginald were standing nearby, listening to the conversation intently. Reginald did his best to appear stolid, but he knew he was failing.

 

‘You’ve got some good people working for you’, Present said.

 

‘That’s never been a problem until now’, Reginald whispered.

 

The feast was prepared in the blink of an eye: Cass and Dee had decorated the room in lightning speed and, soon enough, a table full of steaming food was brought in by Martha and two other henchers. Arthur was walking behind them, carrying some chairs and sulking about his lost goose. Pierson walked over and took the seats from him, so Arthur could go and get more of them. Within minutes, everyone was sitting around Ellington, except for Pierson, who was leaning on the table and feeding Ellington bits of turkey.

 

‘Wouldn’t you like to trade places with him’, Present teased Reginald, coming up behind him.

 

‘Shut up’, he hissed.

 

‘Well, excuse me. Hit a little too close to home there?’

 

He turned around. ‘Why are you showing me this?’

 

‘Don’t worry, all will become clear eventually. Do you want to sit down?’ She waved her staff, and two chairs appeared. ‘We’re going to be here for a while.’

 

He looked at the dinner, then back at the ghost. ‘Fine’, he said.

 

They watched the party go on for a while. The atmosphere in the room was jolly, but it had no effect on Reginald. He looked at the chattering henchers with a blank expression, and sometimes tried to listen to a conversation, but the tumult in the room made it impossible to hear anything coherent.

 

He tried to keep his eyes off Bradley, but failed inevitably. Reginald noticed he was making conversation to be polite, but wasn’t as jolly as the rest of them. Then again, how could he be, with what Reginald was going to do to him tomorrow?

 

‘Okay, listen up everyone! Hey!’ 

 

In the midst of it all, Arthur had climbed on top of his chair, a glass of whiskey in one hand and a teaspoon in the other. He clinked the spoon against the glass, trying to get everyone’s attention. After a minute or two, he succeeded. All eyes were on him.

 

‘Friends! What a wonderful night it is!’ he began.

 

‘Dude, are you drunk?’ Dee called.

 

‘What? No, of course not!’

 

She looked at the person next to her. ‘He’s drunk’, she confided.

 

‘I just want to bring out a toast to the man who made all of this possible.’ He wobbled dangerously, nearly falling of his chair, but quickly composed himself. 

 

‘Mr. Goldnose! I’ll give you Mr. Goldnose, the Founder of the Feast!’ 

 

‘Dude!’ Dee yelled. She got up from her chair and walked over to Arthur. ‘Get off there, you’re pissed.’

 

‘No! I will not be silenced! Get away from me!’

 

Dee put her head in her hands. ‘Jesus Christ, not this again…’ She turned around to face Ellington.

 

‘Sorry, man, he always gets like this when he drinks. He didn’t mean to upset you.’

 

‘No, I’m not upset. It’s alright. He is right, technically.’

 

‘Yeah, and why should he be upset?’ Arthur said. He was sitting in his chair again. ‘It’s not like the boss is actually going to do away with him.’ 

 

All the henchers looked at each other, then at Ellington, who was staring at Arthur, waiting for an explanation. 

 

‘What do you mean?’ he asked.

 

‘Well, maybe  _ you  _ think boss is going to go through with it, and maybe  _ he _ thinks he’s going to go through with it, but he won’t. Trust me.’ He leaned forward in his chair, as if he was disclosing a secret.

 

Ellington looked at him sympathetically. ‘It’s very nice of you to try and give me hope, but really, I’ve come to peace with it. I’d rather you wouldn’t’

 

‘I’m not just being nice here. Who do you think I am? I’m the toughest person in this whole room!’ 

 

A few people snickered, but Arthur ignored them.

 

‘Listen. You know when the alarm buzzed this, or uh, yesterday afternoon, and boss called us to another room? You wanna know what happened? He was like alright listen everybody, he’s going to die tonight. And then Macey - he’s not here tonight - was like “Boss, come on man.” and then everyone started chiming in like ‘It’s Christmas!’ and ‘We want overtime pay!’ and he bought it! He was like alright, we won’t do it tonight, but we’ll do it  _ tomorrow _ .’

 

Ellington let the words sink in. ‘I don’t see how that makes him hesitant to kill me.’

 

‘Don’t you see?’ Arthur exclaimed. ‘You know what he’s like! When he wants something to happen, he makes it happen. No matter what. But yesterday, he just went with whatever we said! I’m telling you: If he really wanted to kill you, he’d have done so last evening.’

 

‘But-’

 

‘Oi! I’m not finished.’

 

‘Oh, pardon me.’

 

At the other side of the table, a few people giggled. Ellington looked at them questioningly.

 

‘I’m sorry, dear, but you’re just so ridiculously polite all the time. It’s endearing’, Martha explained.

 

‘O-Oh. Well, I’m glad I could make you laugh, then’, he said.

 

Present poked Reginald’s arm. ‘You think it’s endearing too, don’t you?’ He looked at her scornfully.

 

‘Hey, people, I wasn’t finished talking yet!’ Arthur interjected.

 

‘Yeah, sure, go right ahead. Why not.’ Dee knew she should probably try to do something about him, but didn’t really feel like it,

 

‘Thank you. Alright, now listen closely, Mr. Ellington: you’d be long dead if the boss actually wanted to kill you. In fact, you wouldn’t even have been killed last evening. You would’ve been killed yesterday morning, when we captured you. You were on that table for the whole day.  _ The whole day _ . He could’ve come out at any time, but he decided to wait until the very last moment. He did that on purpose. He was hoping the buzzer would ring. He was hoping we would “convince” him. And then he said ‘Alright, tomorrow’. But you know tomorrow’s date, right?’ Arthur was standing close to Bradley now, forcing the spy to look at him.

 

‘Christmas day. And after that, boxing day. In fact, it’s still arguably Christmas until the 6th of January! He is, either consciously or subconsciously, procrastinating. And he has two weeks for that! A full two weeks  to procrastinate your death, a full two weeks for you to escape. To escape and never come back because this time, y’all weren’t playing a game. Oh, no. This is serious. At least, it seems that way to you. And before you know it, you’re gone, poof! Deleted from his life. Look, I have no goddamn clue why he’d even want you gone, but he does, and believe me, he doesn’t want you dead.’

 

Ellington was speechless. Everyone else was, too. They looked at their hands, or at their feet, or at the ceiling. Reginald looked straight ahead, not particularly looking at anything. Rage was building up inside him.

 

‘I understand what you’re saying here,’ Ellington ultimately said, ‘but you’re wrong.’

 

‘No, I’m not!’

 

‘No, listen. You’re wrong, and I know you are. Right now, it’s my time to talk. Look...’ He made sure to look the drunk in the eye, wanting to make this very clear.

 

‘I don’t know why he’s been putting it off so much, but it’s not because he’s not going through with it. You didn’t see the way he looked at me. Before I’d seen that look, I was convinced it wasn’t happening too. There was pure, unbridled hatred in his eyes. I’d never seen him like that, not even when we just started out. All this time, everything you think we had, everything  _ I  _ thought we had, was staged. It became clear to me once I saw his face. This isn’t some…’ He paused, as if the words were physically hurting him. For a moment, it seemed to Reginald that the man was looking right at him. He froze, heart pounding in his chest.

 

The moment passed, and Reginald came to the conclusion it’d just been a coincidence. Bradley didn’t seem like he’d seen him.

  
  


‘For a time, I thought it was like the movies, you know’, the spy continued. ‘It sure felt like it. But it wasn’t. At the end of the day, when I did my job and stopped Goldnose from doing his, it wasn’t because he let me. It was because I could, and that frustrated him. I realize that now. Please don’t try to convince me otherwise. I’ve thought about this long enough already. I don’t want to any more.’ He sounded exhausted.

 

‘Doesn’t it hurt you to see him like that?’ Present asked Reginald.

 

‘No.’

 

‘You’re lying.’

 

He averted his eyes. 

 

Arthur spoke again, ignoring Ellington’s request of letting it lie. ‘Okay, you know what? I’m sick of this. In fact, I’m sick of  _ you.  _ What the hell is your problem? Do you seriously think that you’re solely responsible for every victory you’ve had? When did you become so  _ arrogant _ ?’ 

 

‘I didn’t mean to sound-’ 

 

‘I don’t care what you meant to sound like!’ he yelled. A few henchers got up and took a hold of him, afraid that he’d hurt Ellington. Nevertheless, he continued his tirade.

 

‘We can’t hurt you! Nobody talks about it, but everybody knows. Remember when i almost killed you with my laser gun? You know what happened the next day? The boss informed me that we were understaffed, and that _I_ had to help the cleaners from then on. You should’ve seen him! He looked like he was going to murder _me_. And let me tell you, it's really goddamn hard to stop a guy from dismantling a death laser or whatever _when you can’t even aim at him_! And you’re not even here most of the time! But when you are dude has like, twice the energy he does on the regular and—man, jesus, what the hell is your problem? At least… _appreciate_ what he’s doing here! What we’re doing here! I just want some appreciation! You’re making this job even harder!’ The man started sobbing.

 

‘Art, come on, man. This isn’t good for you. You need to go sleep it off’, Cassandra said, who was holding his right arm.

 

Surprisingly, he complied. He shuffled along with his colleagues, who left the party to bring him to his room.

 

The merry mood had left the area completely. Present tried to get a look at Reginald’s face, but he kept turning it away from her.

 

The silence was broken by Ellington. 

 

‘Do I… really make your job that difficult?’ he asked. 

 

Nobody was particularly keen on answering him, but Dee decided to do it anyway. She didn’t fare well with silences.

 

‘Well… yeah.’ 

 

He sighed. ‘Guess that’ll all be over tomorrow, right?’

 

She looked at him incredulously. ‘Didn’t you hear anything he just said?’

 

‘I did, but—’ 

 

‘Well, apparently you didn’t. Or you just didn’t listen. What the hell is wrong with you? Stop feeling sorry for yourself! Rejoice! You’ll be out of here tomorrow! Arthur may be drunk of his ass, but he’s right. About everything.’

 

‘I understand where you’re coming from, but please—’ 

 

‘Shut it!’ she yelled. ‘You know what you should do? Take that overly well-mannered annoying ass attitude and shove it! Don’t you see? You’ve already won! Tomorrow morning, at exactly nine a.m., he’s going to come in here, dance around the issue for a bit, and then let you go. You know, I’ve about had it with you. And with the boss, too. How long is it going to take you two to realize?’

 

‘Realize  _ what _ ?’ Ellington asked, exasperated.

 

She was about to say something, but then decided not to. She looked conflicted for a moment, then directed her attention towards Pierson, who hadn’t bothered to join in on the discussion.

 

‘Look, man, we’ve gotta tell him’, she said.

 

‘What? No!’

 

‘This has gone on long enough. He’s scared out of his wits, why can’t we just let him know?’

 

‘Because they need to find out for themselves.’

 

‘Oh, yeah, sure, because  _ that’s  _ worked out fantastically so far.’

 

‘Come on, Dee. Please’, he pleaded.

 

She looked at him for a few seconds, trying to come to a decision. 

 

‘Fine’, she said. ‘You know what? Fine! I’m done with this. With all of you. I’ll only say this.’

 

She turned around, and pointed her finger at Ellington. ‘You’re not going to die today, and you’re not going to die anytime soon. Stop thinking you are. It’s pathetic.’ With that, she stormed off.

 

Reginald couldn’t look at it anymore. He jumped up, throwing his chair to the ground in frustration.

 

‘She’s wrong’, he growled. ‘They all are.’

 

‘Hey, hold up. Calm down. What’s the matter?’ When Present took a step closer, Reginald took a step back.

 

‘I’m going to kill him, do you understand me? He is not leaving this place alive, and there is  _ nothing  _ you can do about it. Take me back.’ 

 

The ghost pretended to ponder that for a moment. ‘Hmm. No.’

 

‘You have to.’

 

‘I don’t have to do anything. Especially if you’re being so rude to me.’

 

‘Fine, then. I’ll find a way out on my own.’ He started walking in a random direction. 

 

‘No, you won’t.’

 

‘ _ Watch me _ .’

 

‘Stop!’ she ordered. 

 

‘No.’

 

She took out her wand. ‘I hate doing this…’ she mumbled.

 

All of a sudden, Reginald was unable to move. He tried lifting up his leg, but it was glued to the ground. He tried to pull them off by using his arms, but failed. In any other situation, it would have been quite entertaining.

 

‘Now that you can’t run off,’ she said, ‘tell me. Are you in love with Ellington?’ 

 

Nobody had ever asked him so upfront. He didn’t know what to answer, so he kept his mouth shut stubbornly.

‘You’re not making this any easier on yourself’, she said.

 

He looked her straight in the eye. ‘ _ I don’t care _ .’

 

She sighed. ‘Alright. I’ll do the talking. Now, the answer to my question is yes. You know it is. Don’t try to deny it. I saw you looking at him. Every time he ever so slightly moved, you reacted to it. You tried not to, but you did.’

 

Reginald looked at the ground.

 

‘That’s what I know. I just want to know why you’re doing this. You’re obviously crazy about the man! But still you insist that you actually hate him. You’re so determined to get rid of him. Why’s that?’

 

He didn’t answer her.

 

‘Look, I don’t have any magic spell to make you tell the truth. That’s not my division. But I’m not leaving here until you tell me what the hell is going on here, deadline be damned.’ She smiled. ‘I’m already dead, anyway.’

 

Finally, after what seemed like ages even to Present, Reginald opened his mouth.

 

‘My wife. She doesn’t like me doing this. If I don’t stop, she’ll leave. She’ll take my children. She’ll take everything from me. So I have to stop this. All of it.’ He took a deep breath. ‘The only thing tying me to this, to this lifestyle, to the planning, the plotting, is him. Everything I do is about...  _ him _ .’ His voice trembled for a moment. ‘I can’t let it go on like that. It has to stop. He has to die.’

 

She looked him over compassionately, then waved her wand again. Reginald realized he could move his legs now, but saw no point in doing so.

 

‘I think I understand now’, the ghost said. ‘But I don’t think you understand the consequences of your actions.’

 

‘I swear to you, I do.’

 

She regarded him skeptically. ‘Do you?’

 

Reginald saw no point in answering.

 

‘Well, that’s all I needed to know’, she said. ‘I used up a bit too much of my time, here. I won’t be able to send you home again. You’ll meet Future right after this.’

 

‘Sure’, he said. He didn’t care.

 

‘Grab my sleeve.’

 

When he did, it was dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, drunk people.


	4. Goldnose's Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a last attempt to change his mind, the Ghost of Christmas Future shows Goldnose what will happen if he kills Ellington.

The ghost of Christmas Present was gone. Everything was gone, in fact. His surroundings were pitch black. Reginald couldn’t even see his own hands.

 

In the distance, a light appeared. Reginald decided to approach it. The closer he came, the clearer it became: what he saw wasn’t a light, but a pale, bony hand, standing out in darkness. When he reached it, he found that it was attached to a body, engulfed in a big, dark robe.

 

‘You’re the ghost of Christmas Future’, Reginald stated. He didn’t need to ask. He knew there was no point to, since the ghost wouldn’t answer him.

 

‘Whatever business you have with me, get it over with quickly.’

 

The figure moved its hand to its hood, and did something inconceivable to Reginald. He removed his hood, and revealed his face.

 

The face was that of Ellington, but not entirely.

 

His skin was pale and his cheeks were hollow. Reginald instinctively searched for the twinkle in his eye, but didn’t find it. He was nailed to the ground, more shocked than he’d ever been.

 

‘I usually don’t do this, but I heard you were an exception.’ The ghost had Bradley’’s voice, but it was different: melancholy, lifeless. It filled Reginald with a solemn dread.

 

It took a minute for Reginald to answer.

 

‘Lead the way’, he said, and the ghost obeyed. Reginald closed his eyes, afraid of what would come next.

 

When he opened them, he was at his headquarters again. 

 

‘Again?’ he asked, making sure not to look the ghost in the eye.

 

‘Look around’, Future said.

 

The room was filled with henchers, all busy doing their own thing. It didn’t look particularly different to Reginald. Nothing had changed.

 

Nothing had changed?

 

That’s not how it was supposed to go. He’d planned on abandoning the facility once he’d dealt with Ellington. He’d quit, dismantle the organization, and start focusing on his family. 

 

Soon enough, however, he realized something  _ had  _ changed: the patches on the soldiers’ uniforms. The trademark nose had changed to an image of two crossing spears.

 

‘I left this place to someone else?’ he guessed.

 

The ghost shook his head.

 

‘What happened, then?’

 

The ghost lifted up his arm and pointed at something at the other end of the room. Reginald understood. He walked over to the indicated place, his feet growing heavier with each step. He could feel the ghost following his every move. Eventually, he arrived at a pair of henchmen, holding something big and heavy. Reginald didn’t recognize them. The object was covered by a white sheet.

 

‘You know, I really don’t get why we’re putting up a portrait for this guy.’ 

 

‘The boss requested it. That’s reason enough.’ 

 

‘Okay, like, maybe I do get it. At least, kinda. But should we really be glorifying him? The guy was a  _ tyrant _ .’

 

‘Well, yeah, I guess, but only at the end.’

 

‘Who cares about that!’ the other henchman hissed. ‘We’re talking about a guy who fed someone to flesh-eating ants and  _ watched the whole thing,  _ just because he suspected him of being a spy! Three hundred people died under his command! I’m glad the guy’s dead.’

 

‘Sssh! Not that loud, the boss might hear you.’ 

 

‘Yeah, yeah. You know he’s in his office anyway. Anyway, people say he fell off the Eiffel Tower or something, right?’

 

His friend sighed. ‘That’s probably just a rumour.’

 

‘Eh, whatever. Let’s just put this thing up and be done with it.’ 

 

They pulled off the sheet to reveal Reginald’s face. Though he’d already expected it, the man himself couldn’t help but take a step back, bumping into Future.

 

‘Get me out of here’, he said.

 

The ghost took hold of his shoulders, and led him to a corridor. They walked together like that, until they reached a door. Reginald knew it led to his office.

 

‘Who’s in there?’ he asked demandingly. When he didn’t receive an answer, he stepped inside.

 

The space hadn’t changed much. His old desk, his file cabinet, even his chair, all were still in the exact same place. The only things missing were his children’s pictures on the wall.

 

The chair was turned around, so he couldn’t see who was in it. He didn’t feel like walking around to see, and so he waited. Surely enough, the chair spun around. Pierson Otto was sitting in it.

 

It wasn’t the same Pierson as Reginald knew, however. He’d grown a beard, which made him look older. A big, thin scar ran from his eye to the corner of his mouth.

 

Reginald just stood there, frozen in place.

 

‘Tell me what happened’, he ordered. The ghost obliged.

 

‘You’ve been dead for a year’, he said.

 

The villain hesitated. ‘Go on.’

 

‘It started with Ellington’s death. Once you’d killed him, you knew you could stop. But you didn’t. You started working harder than you’d ever had, and you became a very powerful and cruel person. You’d corrupted yourself.’ 

 

The ghost was used to telling stories like this. It was his penance. He was used to it. He expected Reginald to interrupt him, tell him all of this was absurd, but it didn’t happen. He continued his story.

 

‘Your employees started hating you. They’d never thought you’d be capable of killing Ellington. When you did, they realized that they’d made a mistake. That all the trust they’d placed in you was unfounded. They were terrified of you from that moment on. There was just one person who stayed by your side.’ 

 

‘Pierson’, Reginald added.

 

‘Exactly. He blamed himself for everything. He thought that, if he’d only told Ellington about how you felt, all of this could’ve been averted.’

 

Reginald scoffed. ‘He was wrong.’

 

The ghost didn’t correct him. ‘He wasn’t very obvious about supporting you. He had to keep up good relations with the rest of the group. If he didn’t, he was done for. He pretended to just do whatever you said because he was scared, but in reality, he felt guilty. He cared. Even when you killed his friends, he cared.’

 

There were tears in Goldnose’s eyes. He quickly wiped them away.

 

‘The situation wasn’t much different at home. Your wife watched you slowly turn into a monster. Your children did, too, but they didn’t understand. You knew what was happening, too, so you kept your distance. You were terrified of hurting them as well. Barbara told them that daddy was very stressed because of work lately, and that’s why you wouldn’t play with them anymore.’

 

The ghost knew Reginald was crying. But the man didn’t tell him to stop, so he finished his story.

 

‘In the end, they left. It made you even worse than you already were. You didn’t care anymore. You died while fighting one of your new nemeses. You’d had many assigned to you in the following years. None of them survived, but for that last one. In the end, you were thankful that she put you out of your misery.’

 

Reginald felt numb. This wasn’t really happening. There were no tears streaming down his face; that was just his imagination. None of this was real.

 

‘I still have one place to show you’, the ghost announced.

 

‘Do it, then’, Goldnose said, his voice only cracking slightly.

 

The room vanished around them. It was snowing now. Reginald didn’t feel the cold.

 

He saw trees, a church, and tombstones: they were standing in a graveyard. 

 

‘Really? You’re going to show me my grave?’ 

 

‘It’s only appropriate’, the ghost said.

 

‘It won’t change anything.’

 

The ghost shrugged. ‘Perhaps.’

 

Reginald started looking for his own grave and found it promptly. It stuck out: the tombstone was withered and covered in snow. He stared at it for a moment.

 

‘Is this supposed to do anything?’ 

 

‘Usually, yes. But, like I said, you seem to be an exception.’

 

‘There is nothing else for me here. Take me home.’

 

‘I will. But, call it curiosity. What are you going to do now?’

 

He looked at the ground. ‘Take a wild guess.’

 

Future tilted his head. ‘You didn’t learn anything from this?’

 

‘What was I supposed to learn from this? That everyone will leave me no matter what I do? That’s no news to me!’ 

 

‘You know where it started.’ 

 

‘Of course I know where it started! With him. All of it because of  _ him _ . Why couldn’t I just be miserable in peace?’ he said, to no one in particular.

 

‘I wish I’d never met him. I’ve tasted happiness, and now I can’t go back. I don’t know what to do’, he admitted. ‘I…’

 

At that moment, something caught his eye. A tombstone. He approached it in a daze, the ghost following him curiously.

 

It was his, Reginald realized. Ellington’s.  _ Bradley’s _ .

 

‘This won’t change anything’, he whispered. ‘It won’t…’

 

‘You’re afraid they’ll abandon you’, Future said.

 

‘Because they will. You’ve seen so yourself.’

 

‘Goldnose, listen to me. Look at me.  _ Look at me _ .’ He grabbed him by the shoulders. ‘Look at my face. This is what will happen if you go through with this. You don’t want that, do you?’

 

Reginald inhaled a sharp breath. ‘You don’t understand—’ 

 

‘No, I do. And you’re going to stop talking, and you’re going to listen to me. Everything I showed you, everything you think is inevitable now, it’s hypothetical. It only happens when you press that button.’

 

The man struggled, tried to escape from the ghost’s grasp, but Future’s hold was too powerful.

 

‘Your wife never told you she’d leave if you continued on like this, did she?’

 

‘It’s what she meant.’

 

‘It wasn’t. You don’t know that. You just  _ assumed  _ that. You don’t have to prove yourself to anyone, Reginald. You don’t have to prove yourself to anyone. Not even to yourself. You’re not weak if you let him go.’

 

‘Let me go’, the villain commanded. This time, the ghost ignored him.

 

‘Think about him. You’re in charge of his future now. You can make it or destroy it completely. Think about his face, Reginald. It doesn’t have to be like this.’ 

 

He looked up at the ghost with wide eyes. Visions started crowding his mind. All of them had Bradley in it. In every single one of them, the was smiling.  _ Happy _ .

 

‘You’re not the person you just saw. Not yet, at least. You can stop yourself from becoming like that. Be the person Bradley remembers, Reginald. Do it for him.’

 

The visions continued. He had such a nice smile, Bradley. Such a criminally beautiful smile.

 

_ I can’t do it,  _ he thought.  _ I can’t do it. _

 

‘Do you know now?’ the spirit asked.

 

‘I can’t do it’, Reginald muttered. He shook his head, looked at the snow beneath his feet.

 

‘I can’t… why did I ever…’ He looked at the ghost again. ‘ _ How  _ did I ever…’

 

The graveyard disappeared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a pain to write holy SHIT


	5. The End Of It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reginald goes back to his headquarters and fixes his mistakes.

He woke up with a start, panting heavily. He looked around. He was lying in bed. His wife was next to him, and the curtains were drawn. He stayed there for a solid minute, trying to find an explanation for what happened. He didn’t.

 

After a while, he got up. The first thing he did was go to his office. He went straight to the keypad, fingers trembling slightly. He put in the wrong code at first, then corrected himself.

 

A room appeared on the screen. It was the same as before. He zoomed in on Bradley’s face. His cheeks weren’t hollow, his skin not white as a sheet. His eyes were closed, but his pupils were moving behind his eyelids. He was alive.

 

Reginald had half expected to find him dead already. He clasped his hand over his mouth, and let out a sigh of relief.

 

He was going there, he decided. He was going there  _ right now _ . 

 

He raced to the bathroom, brushed his teeth, shaved, put on some clean clothes and ran to the front door. From the corner of his eye, he spotted the Christmas tree.

 

Christmas morning, he thought.

 

It was Christmas morning.

 

He looked at the clock, seeing that the time was 5:47. There was no traffic at this time. He could be there in half an hour. Release Bradley, then go home immediately. It’d have to do.

 

He put on his shoes and coat and left the house.

 

\---

 

Bradley wasn’t ready to die. He knew he wasn’t. He’d stopped lying to himself hours ago.

 

He was alone. His guards were sleeping off the previous night, which had ended in disaster. Not that it mattered; he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

 

He looked at the clock. It was twenty past six. He still had approximately 2 hours and forty minutes to prepare himself. That’d have to be enough.

 

Suddenly, he heard a pair of footsteps. They were far away, so he couldn’t make out who it was. Who’d come to visit him so early in the morning?

 

They drew nearer. They became clearer with each step. He soon realized that they belonged to no one other than Goldnose himself.

 

He panicked. What was he doing here  _ now _ ? Didn’t he have to unpack presents with his family? He was never here this early, even on regular days. Maybe he was mistaken.

 

The source of the footsteps revealed itself. He wasn’t mistaken.

 

_ Shit _ , Bradley thought. 

 

He looked at Goldnose helplessly, but he wasn’t looking back. He walked straight past him. Bradley tried to see where he was going, angling his head as far as he could, but he still couldn’t make out what he was doing.

 

When he came back, the remote control to the laser was in his hands. Bradley closed his eyes. A clicking sound made him open them again.

 

When he looked down, his restraints were open. 

 

Reflexively, he rolled off the table. He landed on his feet, putting his hands in front of him. When he looked up, he saw Reginald, looking at him sheepishly. 

 

‘Hi’, he said.

 

Bradley walked over to him cautiously. 

 

‘What’s going on?’

 

‘I’m letting you go’, he said. For a moment, Bradley thought it was a joke.

 

‘You’re letting me go?’ he asked, dumbfounded.

 

Reginald sighed. ‘Look, I’m sorry I left you here like this. This was a mistake. I never should’ve lured you here in the first place. It’s Christmas.’ He paused, seemingly to weigh Bradley’s reaction.

‘I know I terrified you yesterday. I wasn’t myself. I apologize for that, but… I don’t expect you to forgive me. I just want to know if things can go back to the way they were before.’ 

 

Well.  _ That  _ certainly wasn’t expected. 

 

Bradley looked at him. He had to. That face had looked at him so contemptuously the day before. It was looking at him expectantly, bashfully,  _ hopefully _ . Bradley had to stop himself from kissing it.

 

‘Yes’, he heard himself say. ‘Yes, I think they can.’ He smiled.

 

Reginald let out a sigh of relief. ‘Thank you.’

 

At that moment, a third person appeared on the scene. 

 

‘Boss! You’re here early. Wait a second… Ellington?’ 

Pierson was an awful actor. 

 

‘What are you doing here? Did the boss release you?’ he asked, as if he didn’t already know the answer.

 

‘He did.’

 

‘Boss, isn’t that nice of you. Coming all the way over here just so you could let him go? Why didn’t you just wait until we were on duty? You could’ve just called us to release him and we would’ve obeyed.’

 

‘Yes, well…’ Bradley could’ve sworn he panicked for a second there. ‘I… wanted it done as quickly as possible. I mean…’

 

‘Ah, of course. You didn’t want him to lay on that awful table for three more hours.’ He turned his attention to Bradley. ‘Man, your back must be  _ killing  _ you!’

 

‘Well, maybe a little bit’, he answered. ‘Strangely enough, I can’t really feel it right now.’

 

‘Don’t worry, it’ll come soon enough.’ He clapped him on the back just a bit too hard, and it made Bradley wince.

 

‘See! There it is.’ 

 

‘... Right’, said Reginald. ‘If you’ll excuse us, Pierson, I think Mr. Ellington here is eager to go home.’

 

‘Oh! Of course. You know what, let me walk you to the elevator.’

 

Reginald eyed him suspiciously. ‘Don’t feel obliged to’, he said.

 

‘Oh, no sir, I insist.’ He started walking towards the lifts, leaving a confused Bradley and Reginald behind. Eventually, they followed.

 

\---

 

‘Well, here we are!’ Pierson turned around. ‘Sir, Mr. Ellington. I want to wish you both a very Merry Christmas.’ 

 

‘You too’, Reginald said, not hiding the mistrust in his voice.

 

‘Yes, thank you’, Bradley added.

 

When Reginald stepped forward to take the left elevator, Pierson blocked him off.

 

‘Oops, sorry sir, that elevator’s broken.’

 

‘I just used it to get down here!’ Reginald argued.

 

‘Ah, well, yes but, you see...’ he said, a slight panic clear in his voice. ‘It was broken back then, too! You were terribly lucky, sir. That thing could’ve killed you.’

 

‘... Right’, Reginald said, now choosing the other elevator instead. Pierson looked relieved.

 

When they’d entered the elevator, Reginald pushed the button for the top floor.

 

‘Wait, boss!’ Pierson called suddenly.

 

‘What is it?’ Reginald replied.

 

‘Look up!’

 

Both Reginald and Bradley looked up to see a branch of mistletoe, right above the pair of them. 

 

They looked at each other in alarm, then at Pierson. He was still standing there, grinning like a maniac.

 

‘Merry Christmas!’ he said. It was the last thing they saw before the doors closed.

 

They almost looked at each other again, but stopped themselves. They both looked straight ahead, afraid that they’d reveal too much if they showed their faces.

 

After what seemed like hours, Reginald cleared his throat.

 

‘You know, it’s not like we’re...  _ forced  _ to, I mean, technically we could just... ignore it.’ He fumbled with a button on his uniform, wishing he were anywhere but there.

 

‘Y-Yes, of course. You’re right. Absolutely...’

 

The silence returned, but just after a moment, it was broken.

 

‘But, we could. Technically.’ 

 

Bradley regretted it as soon as he said it. He coughed out a laugh, trying to pass it off as a joke.

 

Judging by the lack of a response, he hadn’t succeeded. 

 

He could practically  _ feel  _ Reginald’s eyes on him. Not wanting to give anything more away, he just stood there, preparing to run off as soon as they’d reached the ground floor.

 

Something touched his arm. A hand. Taken by surprise, he looked at the person it belonged to.

 

Reginald was smiling. Not fully, but hesitantly, carefully. As if he was afraid he’d misheard him.

 

‘Are you sure?’ he whispered.

 

Bradley had never seen him like this. In all the years they’d known each other, he’d never looked so… timid. Reginald was always so sure of himself, never minding the consequences. Seeing him like this made Bradley catch his breath.

 

‘Yes. God, yes’, he said.

 

Reginald’s half-smile turned into a real one, his face radiating pure happiness. This was new, too. It took Bradley’s breath away. It made him realize how incredibly, ridiculously and hopelessly smitten he was.

 

He could look at that smile for hours, he thought. But now was not the time for that.

 

He leaned in slowly, trying to make the moment last as long as possible. He noticed Reginald was doing the same.

 

Just when their faces were inches apart, they heard a sound: the doors were opening.

 

They stepped back by reflex, silently cursing the person who’d called for the elevator. When they looked, they saw it was Cass. She was carrying a box of Christmas decorations.

 

‘Oh, Boss!’ she said, ‘ … and agent Ellington.’ She looked at the two suspiciously. ‘I didn’t expect you to be here this early, sir.’ She pushed the button for her floor.

 

Reginald cleared his throat. ‘Yes, well, I had some important business to take care of.’

 

‘And by important business, you mean releasing Ellington?’

 

He sighed, and shook his head. ‘Am I that obvious?’ 

 

‘You kind of are’, Bradley interjected playfully.

 

Their reaction surprised her. ‘Uh, yeah… well, that’s pretty nice of you, sir.’

 

‘Well, I couldn’t just leave him there forever, could I?’ he said, looking at Bradley, who’d started to smile.

 

‘It is kinda sad it’ll be over so soon, though’, Cass added, wondering what was going on between the two. ‘I mean, after Christmas, you’ll just go back to being enemies.’

 

‘I’m actually not so sure about that’, Reginald corrected. Bradley’s smile grew even bigger.

 

‘You’re not nemeses anymore?’ She raised an eyebrow. ‘That’s too bad. I’d kinda gotten used to this guy.’ She laughed nervously.

 

‘Don’t worry’, Bradley said, grabbing Reginald’s hand. ‘I’m sure you’ll see enough of me in the future.’

 

‘...Right.’ At this point, Cass just wanted to get out of there. The doors opened just on cue.

 

‘Welp, that’s my floor! See you guys later!’ She ran out of the elevator, trying not to spill any garlands from the box in her hands. Reginald nor Bradley noticed her leave.

 

‘So you’ll come back?’ Reginald asked, lifting his hand up to cup Bradley’s face.

 

‘Always’, he said, inching closer. ‘Always.’ 

 

Reginald couldn’t take it anymore. He took his hand from Bradley’s, wrapped his arms around his neck, and kissed him. 

 

It was electric. Bradley didn’t know any other way to describe it. He wrapped his arms around Reginald’s waist, desperately trying to pull him closer. He kissed him back as if the world would end tomorrow. Maybe it already had, Bradley thought, and this was heaven. It certainly wouldn’t have surprised him.

 

It wouldn’t have surprised Reginald either. All his worries, all those awful memories of the journey he’d been on the night before, evaporated under Bradley’s touch. He never wanted it to end. For the first time in years, he was truly, stupidly and euphorically happy.

 

Needless to say, they were so preoccupied with each other, they’d completely blocked out everything else. They didn’t notice the sound of the elevator doors opening, nor did they see Arthur, who’d called for the elevator and was now looking at them, thunderstruck. He wondered what the hell had been in his drink last night.

 

The doors closed again. Arthur decided to take the stairs this time.

 

The pair’s timing was immaculate. As soon as they’d reached ground level, they broke apart, panting for breath. Reginald’s face was flushed, and his pupils dilated. It made Bradley want to kiss him again. Reginald looked like he was thinking the same, eyes fixed on Bradley’s lips. Just as Bradley leaned it again, he noticed they’d arrived at their destination, but the doors were closing. He looked at them, then back at Reginald.

 

‘Was that…?’

 

‘… Our floor?’ Reginald completed. ‘Probably.’

The elevator was moving down again.

‘Oops’, Bradley commented dryly. Reginald started laughing.

‘What?’ the spy asked, beginning to grin himself.

‘Nothing, just… “oops”.’ He started laughing harder.

‘Stop it!’ They were still holding each other, so Bradley took advantage of their proximity. He kissed him again, this time slower, sweeter. He could feel Reginald’s smile on his lips, causing him to return it.

‘That how you’re gonna stop me from laughing at you from now on?’ he asked.

‘M-hm’, Bradley answered, pressing his forehead against the other’s.

‘I can get used to that.’

They heard the doors open, but didn’t bother to let go of each other completely. Bradley turned to face the opening, but kept one arm around Reginald, who moved his arms to Bradley’s waist and put his head on Bradley’s shoulder.

‘Hiya boss, Ellington…’ Dee started. She stopped. She looked at her boss, then at Ellington, then at her boss, then at Ellington.

‘Boss!’ she exclaimed. ‘Ellington?’

‘Present,’ Bradley said. Reginald chuckled.

The doors started closing on their own.

‘No, wait!’ Dee managed to stop them with her hands, then wiggle her way through.

When the elevator started moving she looked like she wanted to say something, and the men looked at her expectantly.

‘When did this happen?’ she managed eventually.

‘Just now’, Reginald replied.

‘Just now? But why just…’ Something dawned on her. She looked up, and saw the mistletoe hanging from the ceiling. She then started laughing uncontrollably. Reginald and Bradley looked at each other questioningly.

‘What’s the matter?’ Dee’s boss asked.

‘I’m sorry, just… Pierson… I can’t believe that actually… holy shit. God, I wish I could’ve seen your faces! Wait, did he pull out a camera on you?’

‘No, definitely not.’

‘Aw, that’s too bad’, she pouted. ‘He’ll just have to describe it to me then. Jesus… Phew!’ She composed herself.

 

‘Sorry about all that, gentlemen,’ she apologized. ‘Really, I’m just glad you two are finally together. The whole thing between you two was getting kind of old.’

‘Yeah, I agree’, Bradley said. Reginald smiled at him.

Dee looked at the mistletoe again, then got an idea.

‘Uh, sir?’

‘Yes?’

‘Is it alright with you if I take the mistletoe up there?’

‘Uh… yeah, sure’, he said, wondering what she was planning to do with it.

‘What are you planning to do with it?’ Bradley asked, as if reading Reginald’s mind.

‘Well, I just gathered… If you two can do it, so can I.’

‘You’re going to hang it somewhere near Cass?’ Bradley speculated.

Both Reginald and Dee looked at him, surprised.

‘How do you…?’

‘Pierson told me yesterday’, he clarified.

Dee’s brows furrowed. ‘That son of a…’

‘Is this your floor?’ Reginald asked.

She looked behind her. ‘Yeah, it is. Hold up…’

She jumped, trying to grab the mistletoe. Since she was quite tall and the branch was only secured to the ceiling with adhesive tape, she got it quite quickly.

‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, boss, Ellington… Wait, can I call you Bradley now?’

He shrugged. ‘Sure.’

‘… Brad?’

‘Don’t push it.’

‘Eh, it was worth a try.’ With that, she walked off.

The silence had returned to the elevator, but it had changed. It wasn’t tense or awkward anymore: it was comfortable. Content.

‘When did Pierson tell you about Cass and Dee?’ Reginald asked suddenly.

‘Oh, well… long story short, your people organized this Christmas Eve dinner and included me in it, but since I couldn’t leave the table, Pierson just kind of fed me pieces of turkey…’

Reginald tensed up, realizing that everything he’d seen, the future that he was sure his imagination had come up with, hadn’t been a dream. It’d been real. All of that would’ve been reality if he’d gone through with it.

‘What’s wrong?’ Bradley asked worriedly.

‘Nothing, I just…’ He took a deep breath. ‘… realized how lucky I am to have you.’

Bradley wrapped him in a hug. Reginald held onto him tightly.

‘I need to tell you something later’, Reginald whispered.

‘Don’t worry, it can wait’, Bradley reassured him. Whatever it was, the man seemed pretty shaken up about it.

They arrived at their destination: the ground floor.

‘We need to get out, don’t we?’

‘Yes’, Bradley answered. ‘I think we do…’

Reginald let go of him, grabbing the man’s hand instead. ‘Let’s go.’

They walked together like that, eventually reaching the employee parking lot, nearly deserted except for Reginald’s car. When they reached it, they let go of each other, and Reginald got into his car. He rolled down his window.

‘What’d you get your family for Christmas?’ Bradley inquired.

‘Uhm, a box of markers for Laurie, a toy plane for Theo… and my wife, well, we kind of stopped giving each other presents a while ago.’

‘Oh… I see.’ He thought for a moment. ‘Where’d you get Theo a toy Vought V-137?’

‘A… friend fixed it up for me. Did I just say what kind it was?’

‘No, I just remembered you talking about what to get Theo for his birthday one time. You were talking about how he was only interested in this one kind of plane, because it looked like a ufo from above. I was crawling through the vents, and when I passed your conference room, I overheard you talking about it with Dee.’

Reginald looked at him, shocked. ‘You remembered that?’

‘Of course I did. How couldn’t I?’ He smiled at the recollection. ‘You were talking about it so intently, like you really didn’t want to disappoint him. I’m glad you managed to get it for him this time.’

Reginald continued to look at him, wide-eyed. It dawned on him that that stupid, previously impossible-seeming dream he’d had, could be a reality. That Bradley could be his family. That Bradley could be  _ their  _ family.

‘Did I say something wrong?’ Bradley asked, alarmed by Reginald’s reaction.

‘N-No. No!’ he said, getting out of his car. Once he had, he didn’t waste a moment: he stepped forward, grabbed Bradley’s face, and kissed him urgently.

Bradley nearly stumbled backwards, but just managed to keep the two of them on their feet. Reginald’s hands were slipping into his hair, feeling the back of his neck, sliding over his face. It was nearly too much for poor Bradley to handle.

It was Reginald who broke the kiss, as well. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, ‘I have to go.’

Bradley looked at him, panting heavily.

‘That’s just criminal’, he mumbled.

A smile tugged at his lips. ‘Oops’, he said. He got back into his car.

He’d planned on driving away immediately, leaving an awestruck and sexually frustrated Bradley behind, but then he remembered the guy had to go home as well.

‘Do you need a lift?’ he asked.

At least he’d succeeded in leaving him awestruck. A few seconds later, Bradley snapped out of it. ‘Uh… I think I still have enough change in my pockets for a train ticket. The station’s just five minutes away.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Go see your family, darling’, he said, smiling. ‘I’ll be okay.’

Playing the pet name card. Now  _ that  _ was criminal.

‘Alright’, Reginald said, biting his lip. ‘Be safe.’ He drove off, leaving Bradley behind.

\---

The train station was bustling with people, all eager (or not-so-eager) to go visit their relatives, friends, or partners. Bradley would’ve envied them the day before, but now, he was just happy. He smiled when he saw couples walking hand in hand, or children tugging at their parents’ clothes, goading them into buying a new toy from one of the market stalls. He couldn’t help but imagine Reginald there, his children jumping up and down around him,  

A few people gave him strange looks, probably because of his less-than-ideal attire, but he didn’t care.

On his way to the ticket booth, something caught Bradley’s eye: a pair of golden cufflinks. He approached the stall where they were displayed, picked them up and inspected them intently: they had an intricate design along the edges, probably art deco.

_ If only I had enough money on me _ , he thought.

‘Who’re you buying those for, son?’

An old man was now standing next to Bradley, looking at him intently. He stood out even more than Bradley did: he was wearing an old-fashioned waistcoat, tights, and boots with tassels on them. His hair was long, held together in a pigtail. He looked like he had stepped straight out of a Dickens novel.

‘No one’, Bradley answered. ‘I don’t have enough money on me, you see.’

‘What? Nonsense!’ The man reached into his coat, pulling out an antique wallet. ‘Here, I’ll buy it for you.’ He opened the wallet, but Bradley stopped him.

‘Sir, I couldn’t possibly ask you-’

 

‘Oh, quiet, you. It’s Christmas! A time of generosity!’ He handed a few bank notes to the man behind the stall. He hadn’t even looked at the price. 

 

‘Let me pay you back, then. Give me your phone number.’

 

‘My…? Oh, yes, sure. Let’s see…’

 

The man wrote down some numbers on a piece of paper and handed it to Bradley.

 

‘You live in the Netherlands?’ Bradley asked.

 

‘I beg your pardon?’ 

 

‘The country code. It’s the one for the Netherlands.’ 

 

‘Ah.. yes, naturally! Windmills, tulips, cheese… so wonderful. Say, is that all you’re going to buy?’ He pointed at the cufflinks, which had been packaged and wrapped up neatly.

 

‘I’m sorry…?’ Bradley begun to distrust the situation more and more.

 

‘Well, you must have some other people you haven’t gotten a gift for yet. Aren’t you going to get them anything?’ 

 

‘... You have a point.’ 

 

‘Here, I saw a wonderful toy stall at the other end of the hall!’ He grabbed Bradley’s wrist, and pulled him along. Bradley didn’t ask him how he knew he’d be needing children’s toys.

 

When they arrived at the table, Bradley looked at the selection. Laurie loved coloring, he remembered. She loved decorating the walls as well. Knowing how much time Reginald had spent cleaning all it off, he bought the girl a coloring book. For Theo, he got a figurine of an airline pilot.

 

‘Excellent choice, excellent choice’, the old man mumbled. While he paid for the items, Bradley tried to think of something for Barbara (he couldn’t leave her out, of course; not after what he’d done to her). He looked behind him, and noticed a stall full of scarves, most of them with flower print. Remembering his college roommate’s flower meanings poster, he bought one covered in purple hyacinths.

 

‘Alright, that should do it!’ the old man said. He pulled a watch on a chain from his breast pocket and looked it.

 

‘Oh, dear, my time’s almost up! I apologize for leaving this early. Here’, he said, handing Bradley his purchases. He ran off, and disappeared into the crowd.

 

Bradley didn’t know what to think of it. He decided he’d contemplate it later; his train was leaving in five minutes, and he didn’t even have a ticket yet.

 

He rushed to the ticket booth, and reached into his pocket. He expected to only find some change in there, but was surprised by something else as well. He pulled out a long, golden chain. A pocket watch. Bradley opened it, curiously. In it was a small piece of paper.

 

_ Thank you. _ _   
_ _ That was the last one. _

 

He had no idea what it could mean.

 

‘Excuse me, sir’, the lady in the booth said. ‘Are you going to buy a ticket?’

 

‘Oh, yes! Pardon me…’ he got out his change, and handed it over. Then, he got an idea.

 

‘Say, can I borrow a piece of paper?’

 

\---

 

Reginald was sitting on the couch, reading the newspaper. It was the 26th of December.

 

When he’d come home the morning before, he’d been happy. Truly, genuinely so. Barbara had been surprised. She’d been happy as well. For a moment, she’d thought that all would be well. That their marriage could be saved. 

 

He’d looked at her, and his face had dropped. Just slightly, but noticeably. She’d realized that she was mistaken. She’d started planning her escape.

 

Reginald didn’t know she knew. He was going to tell her, sooner or later. He just didn’t want to do it during the holidays.

 

The doorbell rang. He put down his newspaper, got up, and opened the door. There was a package on the doormat, neatly wrapped in Christmas paper. There was a card.

 

_ I hope you have an awful Christmas and a dreadful new year. _

_ Signed, your favourite nemesis. _

 

Reginald grinned.

 

‘Bah’, he said. ‘Humbug.’

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now THIS was more fun to write.
> 
> Thank you to anyone who read this, and I hope you enjoyed it. Happy Holidays!

**Author's Note:**

> I'd say 'constructive criticism is appreciated' but then nobody will ask me whether they can give constructive criticism, and THEN I won't be able to recreate that whole 'it fucking sucks/that's not constructive criticism' meme so I won't say anything about constructive criticism.


End file.
